


Shattered

by Naemi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drama, Hurt Isaac, M/M, Mean Derek, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 19:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naemi/pseuds/Naemi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Isaac keeps ignoring Derek's rule not to see Scott, he receives a reminder stronger than just words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> [going canon divergent in season 3a]
> 
> This is very, _very_ wrong. Just saying.

 

Isaac doesn't make a single sound except for a few hushed sobs inaudible to the human ear. He doesn't protest. He doesn't fight.

The first blow comes the moment he enters the loft. His wolf growls, bites and claws, but Isaac doesn't let it out even once, knuckles under his Alpha, knowing he _deserves_ every bit of it.

That knowledge keeps his lips sealed. It’s obvious, anyway. Scott's scent is so thoroughly over him, in him, that every one of his pack mates must have smelled him from three blocks away. Admitting it would seem unnecessarily defensive.

So he lets Derek backhand him, lets his Alpha hurl him against the wall hard enough for two ribs to crack. He watches as Derek orders the other betas to leave, wipes away a single tear, more disappointment in himself than anything else. The pack shuffles out without looking at him, and that's when he understands how much he fucked up. Or how fucked up he will be soon.

Isaac's mind manages to connect Derek's anger to the beating he receives, and that's okay, even though the back of his head hits the wall so hard he feels dizzy. Once. Twice. His wolf wants to draw blood, but the seventeen-year-old teenager shivers with fear because it really hurts, and because Derek's never looked at him with so much scorn, and _that_ chokes him, causes all hope for forgiveness to abandon him at once.

When Derek rips his shirt off, Isaac's heart skips a beat. He almost asks, almost begs, but then everything happens so quickly that his voice sticks in his throat. He doesn't flinch when Derek shreds every bit of clothing from his body, although his claws leave deep gouges in Isaac’s skin. He doesn't protest as he's dragged across the floor, despite the scalping grip on his hair. He doesn't sob when Derek pins him down on the stairs. In a corner of his mind he knows, he just knows what is coming, and it horrifies him.

Derek doesn't grant him any reprieve. He mocks him, every word worth a dozen physical assaults, and Isaac squeezes his eyes shut, grabs the baluster, praying this is just a nightmare. He deserves this, deserves the pain and humiliation, deserves, deserves, _deserves_ to be punished for his disobedience, for giving himself to another Alpha.

His mind reaches out to Scott— _Please, don't let him, don't let him hurt me, please, I need you, need you now_ —but there's no such empathic link between them; he can't sense him that way, can't come to his rescue, although Isaac knows that when Scott finds out his wrath will be infernal. He clings to that thought, holds on to it tightly in the attempt to keep his sanity.

At least it's over quickly.

Derek leaves him lying there like the piece of trash Isaac knows he is. Like a nauseous insect, crushed and shattered under a heavy footstep. To hear water running from upstairs is almost cynical, the unmistakable message that what just happened is nowhere out of the ordinary, that Isaac means nothing anymore. Derek is washing him off like a stain.

The tears burn his cheeks, but he doesn't feel them; he is too consumed by his aches, the Alpha wounds healing human-slow. Isaac tries to get up, carefully, but he finds it impossible with each fiber of his being screaming in protest. Clenching his teeth, he crawls down the few steps to the bottom of the staircase, rolls to his side, curls in on himself, and that's as far away as he can get from the shame right now. The heat of his pain melts into the chill below him, but even as his heartbeat gradually steadies, Isaac finds no comfort.

It takes more than an hour to pick up the pieces of himself, and even then he merely drags his aching body to the couch. It's when he looks down for the first time, sees with his own eyes what he feared he'd find—it's when he sees the dried blood on the inside of his thighs, trails a shaking finger up the line and to its origin—that he starts to scream.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful **Moit** , who also made sure that all characters were returned unharmed.
> 
> [Feedback is love.]


End file.
